


Well That's Just Awkward

by OnyxSinz (OnyxianDrake)



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Clothed Sex, Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale), Ecto-Penis (Undertale), Grinding, M/M, Smoking, Underswap Papyrus (Undertale), Weed, idk what else to tag for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:52:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29359818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnyxianDrake/pseuds/OnyxSinz
Summary: Sans and Stretch are friends who smoke weed and hang out. That'stotallythe only thing they do.Usually, anyways.[Commissioned Drabble]
Relationships: Papyrus/Sans (Undertale), honeyketchup - Relationship, stonerbros
Kudos: 29





	Well That's Just Awkward

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SteamySpectacles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteamySpectacles/gifts).



> Hope you enjoy how it turned out, Steamy! c:

“Dude, give me the joint back if you’re not going to take a hit.”

Sans grinned lazily as he cracked open a socket to look at Stretch, who frowned back as if he was actually annoyed. Slowly he drew in a breath of smoke before handing it over. Stretch snatched it away to bring it to his teeth, rolling his eyelights as Sans chuckled. He knew well enough that Stretch and himself were both too zooted to actually get irritated enough to do something about it.

He felt Stretch’s ribs rise as he took a drag. When Sans had arrived, Stretch refused to move his legs or sit up. Didn’t bother him any, taking his revenge by laying on top of the lankier skeleton instead of sitting on his legs. To his own surprise, Stretch didn’t immediately shove him off. Even when Blue headed out with a comment about them “canoodling” and Stretch’s cheekbones when bright with a blush, Sans stayed put. If Stretch was content being bony cushions, Sans wasn’t going to bother moving.

That comfort seemed to be drawing to an end though, as Stretch shifted for the umpteenth time. The constant fidgeting had been getting more frequent, like he was growing more uncomfortable. Sans couldn’t fault him, his own ribs beginning to feel sore from how they were laying practically chest to chest. Once the joint was back in his hand, he moved to sit up as if he was going to stretch. He could find a comfortable place sitting on Stretch’s legs instead for both of their benefit-

“Wait-”

Sans paused when he sat back on something that was not the hard pelvis he’d expected. Instead there was a warm firmness pressed to his tailbone. Neither his shorts nor Stretch’s khakis left it a mystery as to what exactly was there. Sans’ cheekbones warmed more than they already were, and Stretch wasn’t much better off. Nearly his entire skull was flushed with magic, his hands rested on Sans’ hips as if he’d tried to stop him. That motion had very obviously failed, and now they were at a standstill.

Sans knew well enough that his own magic could become aroused when he was high, so it wasn’t a reach to know it affected Stretch similarly. He wouldn’t say he felt...embarrassed about the situation despite the bright blush he sported now. Arousal wouldn’t be what he called it either, despite his own magic now pressed against Stretch’s. Even with the slightest shift making his breath hitch, Sans wasn’t sure how he felt about what was happening in that exact moment. Only now he didn’t care to put a word to it, not when Stretch gripped his hips marginally tighter, or when he moved to sit up and they rocked against each other.

“F-fuck-” He grabbed the joint from his mouth before it fell, lost on what to do with it as his free hand grabbed at Stretch’s wrist.

Sans couldn’t help but to rut against Stretch, the usually uncomfortable drag of his shorts more arousing than it should have been. It didn’t help he could feel how large Stretch was, or that Stretch not a moment later used his hold to his advantage. Even the slightest friction of his cock against Stretch’s made Sans gasp, face warm at the fact they were just grinding against each other.

So focused on the pleasure, he hadn’t even noticed the joint was gone from his hand until he glanced up. He struggled to keep eye contact with Stretch’s half lidded gaze, as he took a slow drag from what was left before he tossed the nearly burned out nub into the ashtray. He couldn’t help the small roll of his hips as his magic throbbed with need.

When Stretch gripped his hips again, Sans couldn’t help the startled cry at the sudden thrust he gave. He scrambled to grip Stretch’s sleeves before settling on the front of his hoodie as he did it again, Sans trying to meet each movement. With Stretch’s grip he couldn’t control how he moved, as he fought to keep from moaning sharply at a particularly rough thrust.

The moment Stretch stopped, leaving Sans pressed firmly against him, he sent a spiteful glare towards the taller skeleton. He squirmed in his hold, trying to get any little bit of friction he could.

“Dude!” he hissed faintly.

He grabbed at Stretch’s hands, trying to make him even just loosen up the grip he had so Sans could move.

“Sorry,” Stretch didn’t sound sorry, “got distracted.”

Sans nearly cursed when Stretch finally let him move on his own, grinding hard against the heated magic below him. He bit his tongue as he heard Stretch moan quietly, gaze snapping away from Stretch’s. The look he had on his face wasn’t what Sans had been expecting, and despite the small moan that slipped out he was conflicted over what he thought he’d seen.

Stretch on the other hand was watching Sans closely, torn between watching the quieter skeleton’s expression or closing his own sockets to focus on the pleasure. Already he’d nearly lost control when Sans sat firmly in his lap without even intending to, and now that they were getting off on rubbing against each other? He was dead set on seeing it to an end where Sans came before him.

If it weren’t for Sans’ grip on his wrists, he would’ve moved to pull their shorts down. The thought of properly feeling Sans’ cock against his own had him squeezing the shorter skeleton’s hips tighter, rutting up against him sharply. Even the slightest surprised moan was a treat to hear, and when he did it again Sans hissed a curse under his breath.

Finally, Sans shuddered and lost his rhythm meeting Stretch’s thrusts. Stretch’s own magic pulsed hotly hearing Sans’ almost silent, but airy, groan as he came. Despite the momentary distraction, Stretch grinded up against him. Sans pulled slightly as if to get out of his hold, but not a moment later he was coming.

The lazy grinding between them slowed as the high of pleasure passed. Sans hadn’t tried to pull away again, and Stretch didn’t make a move to let go. If anything, he didn’t completely want to let go, distractedly tracing circles with his thumbs against the exposed bone of Sans’ iliac crest. Slowly he cracked open his sockets, not completely certain when he had closed them in the first place.

Sans’ flushed face took his focus as he evaluated the situation briefly. Hands were pressed to his chest now, instead of gripping his wrists. Sans was panting, seemingly still gathering his bearings between the pleasure and the weed clouding his skull. When Stretch finally spotted the white eyelights looking back at him, there was a moment they seemed to both pause.

Sans’ expression seemed questioning and still a little hazy, but Stretch was more concerned with how close he was. Warm and fuzzy after the whole...situation of them getting off on each other, he took the chance to lean in. None of this had been discussed. But if Sans was open to going as far as that-

“Whoa, bud, heh. I think you’re reading a little too far into this.”

Stretch stared in bewilderment as Sans pushed him back gently, his hands firm against Stretch’s chest. That warm haze was gone, replaced with an uncomfortable awareness of the wetness in his khakis, now sticking to his bare pelvis. He also couldn’t help but notice how Sans was trying not to sit in his lap again. A new moment of silence replaced the first one, this time feeling like a knife could cut the thick tension.

“Heh, you good?” Sans asked, waving a hand in front of Stretch’s face. “Wasn’t anything serious, yeah?”

Stretch’s cheekbones warmed in embarrassment now, chest feeling tight with an unnamed panic as he tried to cover the fact he was overthinking everything. It wasn’t serious?

“Right. Course. Yeah,” Stretch stuttered out, refusing to look Sans in the eye now. “Nothing serious.”

He removed his hands from the smaller skeleton like he’d been burned, shoving them in his hoodie pockets so he didn’t have to put them anywhere else. Stretch could feel the awkward tension, though he was certain Sans wasn’t looking at him either.

“...cool, I’m gonna go clean up then.”

“Okay,” Stretch barely got out, not looking as the other skeleton got off the couch and headed to the bathroom.

Sans had barely been there for two hours, and now Stretch had to deal with whatever weirdness he caused between them for another few. That was just...great.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also on Twitter for art!
> 
>  **SFW** : @OnyxianDrake  
>  **NSFW (18+ Only)** : @UnholyLiar


End file.
